


Return to Smoke

by grovestep



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: War of the Thorns | Burning of Teldrassil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 04:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grovestep/pseuds/grovestep
Summary: An insider's view of the Burning of Teldrassil.





	Return to Smoke

Darnassus was burning.   
Kynnaria squinted her eyes against the smoke. She attempted to sit up, but found she couldn’t feel her left side. She coughed and felt something spatter her hand. She couldn’t see what it was through the smoke, though she felt she wouldn’t want to anyways.   
The thick smog made her head light and her body heavy. Kynnaria tried to raise her voice to call out for help. She could see movement through the smoke. People were just out of reach, but she couldn’t find her voice. They couldn’t see her through the smoke. She felt her eyes lulling shut, her breath becoming more and more strained. The smoke seemed to spin into a kaleidoscope of colors until there was nothing but black.   
The last thing she saw was the hulking form of a Saber ambling towards her.  
—  
Before  
“Hello, Kynnaria! Long time, no see!”  
The jovial Night Elf greeted Kynnaria with open arms, pulling her into a bear hug. She shied away from the physical contact at first, but found herself hugging the man back with just as much fervor.   
“Arastan! It’s been too long!” She said and clapped him on the back.   
“You should come visit more. I know you’re not keen on cities, but these are your people,” Arastan said as he pulled out of the hug. He looked at her with a stern gaze, “You have been out of trouble, I presume?”  
Kynnaria managed her best innocent smile while dodging the question, “Hey, where’s Analise?”  
Arastan gave her a look, but brightened at the mention of his wife, “A boat to Stormwind with a small number of hippogryphs for the war effort. If she knew you were coming, she would have stayed a day longer to greet you.”   
“Well, hopefully I catch her before she leaves Stormwind. Walk with me?”   
The two started walking around Darnassus. They weaved in and out of the various terraces, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. Many of the people prepared for war. The duo watched warriors take up arms and depart for Ruth’eran Village, Druids take flight for Duskwood, and the priestesses ready their supplies for the wounded. Kynnaria’s eyes grew troubled.   
“Do they really believe the Horde will make it all the way to Darnassus?” She asked. Arastan averted his eyes.   
“Not if Malfurion can help it. I hear he is single-handedly holding back the Horde with a wisp wall.”  
That seemed to satisfy Kynnaria as they rounded the center of the city. Arastan took a seat on one of the benches, beckoning Kynnaria to take a seat by him.   
“What of your Saber, Nova?” He asked while he pulled out and lit a cigarette.   
“Grandma Nova is stabled in Stormwind. She doesn't like to travel by boat.”  
“Grandma? Has it really been so long for her to have kits, and her kits to have kits? Where are her progeny, then?”  
Kynnaria grinned, put two fingers in her mouth, and blew a sharp whistle. A giant Sabercat seemed to materialize out of the shadows. The cat bared her teeth at Arastan before Kynnaria snapped her fingers. The beast sat obediently, and looked at Arastan as though she expected something.  
Arastan leaned over and whispered, “What does she want?”  
“To be pet, of course. Go on, she doesn’t bite unless I tell her. Arastan, this is Moonwhistle. Moonwhistle, meet Arastan.”  
The Sabercat let out a yawn and sat her head between the two Night Elves on the bench. She flicked her ears and looked up at Arastan, letting out a deep noise that rumbled in her chest.   
“And what of her kit?” He asked while he pet Moonwhistle behind the ears. The beast started to purr like a Goblin boat engine.   
“Being looked after by Grandma. She is too young to travel such a distance yet. They are hardy creatures, but I can’t risk her picking up an illness on the boat.”  
They fell into comfortable silence. Arastan smoked his cigarette and pet Moonwhistle while Kynnaria looked to the sky. The sky was framed by the boughs and leaves of the giant tree, but Kynn could see the sky darkening in preparation for night. She coughed and fanned one hand in front of her face, catching a sudden whiff of cigarette smoke.   
“Do you mind putting that out?” She asked and turned to Arastan.   
“My cigarette has been put out for a while, Kynn,” he said.   
“Then what is that awful smell?”   
The sky seemed to thicken and gray, and the air around them reeked of sulfur. Kynnaria cupped her mouth and nose with both hands. She looked at Arastan with wide eyes. He put one hand on her shoulder and pulled her close.  
“I’m sure it’s nothing. We would have heard word if the Horde made it to Darnassus, and if they are here, if we do not take up arms against them, we should be fine,” Arastan said, though his voice was strained. Kynnaria didn’t dare look into his eyes.  
“What if…”  
“Hush, child. Calmness in the face of adversity is a virtue. We don’t have need or time for what if’s.”  
Arastan hadn’t called her child in hundreds of years. It sent a grim shiver down her spine. Someone whisked by them at top speed, carrying the scent of blood and smoke. It was a ranger on Saberback shouting at the top of her lungs. She looked worse for wear, her eyes wild and armor gore soaked. Kynnaria heard her words, but didn’t quite comprehend them.   
“The Horde have opened fire! Fire! Take cover!”  
No sooner than the ranger sprinted by did Arastan and Kynnaria feel the very trunk of Teldrassil move with a mighty quake. He held her close as they stood up. All around them, citizens of Darnassus poured from their homes in panic.   
A deer darted by Kynn’s legs, and she turned to look in the direction it came from. Her eyes widened. An exodus of forest animals ran into the city. Behind them, a fire raged. Kynnaria stood petrified until Arastan pulled her from her stupor.   
“We need to go, Kynnaria.”  
“We have to help! We have to do something!” She shouted.   
Arastan kept one hand around her wrist and shook his head. He pulled her in the direction of the Temple. She pulled away from his grip. Another tremor shook the tree.   
“What will you do, child? Put the fire out yourself?” Arastan shouted back over the din of panic.   
“I am no child, Arastan! You said it yourself, these are my people. _Our_ people! I have to help them.”  
The very tree itself seemed to be falling as it was bombarded. Arastan’s mouth fell open as his eyes turned to the sky. Kynnaria blinked and she was on the ground, her ears ringing and her vision skewed. Arastan’s body was wrapped around her like protective cocoon. Her head lolled to the side, and she saw the giant ball of blazing pitch that narrowly missed them.   
Arastan gazed down at her, “Still...want to help...now?” He said through gritted teeth.  
“Yes.”  
Arastan pulled her to her feet. His brow was creased and his jaw set, “If you insist. But the moment it gets too intense, we leave.”  
—  
Rescue 

Kynnaria and Arastan sprinted from home to home, rallying the citizens there to move to safety. They watched droves of their kin leave through the emergency portal to Stormwind, yet so many more remained. The fire raged on, engulfing entire parts of the city.   
Their bodies were coated in ash. Kynnaria found it hard to distinguish Arastan from other Night Elves. There were burns on both her hands from retrieving citizens from under burning wreckage. She flexed her fingers and looked at the blisters forming there. She clenched her teeth.   
She followed Arastan into a deeper part of the city. They called out for survivors. Kynn had to avert her eyes as they passed many who did not make it. The heat was becoming unbearable, and she figured this was the last trip they could make. Her lungs ached with the effort to breathe.   
They circled back, increasing their pace through to city to get back to the portal as soon as possible. Through the roar of the fire, Kynnaria thought she heard a cry. She stopped and looked around. Arastan, realizing that she no longer followed behind him, called back to her, “Kynnaria, we must leave _now_!”  
“Hold on! I thought I heard something!”  
Kynnaria approached one of the buildings. The better half of it was on fire, but the front remained intact. A beam had fallen in front of the door, and Kynnaria could see the frantic faces of family through the glass. They banged on the door, calling out to her. “Over here, Arastan! A family!”  
Arastan came back to help. Together with Moonwhistle, they moved the beam far enough out of the way to jar the door open. The Night Elf family squeezed through the crack, the father carrying the unconscious body of one of his children. The woman was in tears. She gripped Kynnaria’s arms and looked her in the eye.   
“Please! My daughter, she’s stuck on the second floor! We couldn’t reach her! Please, I can’t lose her,” the woman said through hysterical sobs.   
Ignoring the protest from Arastan, Kynnaria entered the building. The front was an eerie calm, untouched by flame. She found her way to the stairs, and was immediately met with a swell of heat. Smoke rolled down from the second story in waves. She covered her mouth and eyes and mounted the stairs. Kynnaria registered the sound of a second set of footsteps behind her. Arastan filed in behind her, urging her to go faster.   
The two searched the upper story as far as they could, turning around when they met the wall of flame. Arastan entered one of the bedrooms, and came out with the unconscious body of the woman’s daughter. They nodded to each other and turned around to find the stairs.   
The sound of wood breaking made Kynnaria look up.   
She was able to see the sky through the roof.   
She looked to the side.  
A blazing thatch of the roof had landed beside her.   
She turned around.   
Arastan was gone.   
In his place was a blazing hole in the floor, and through the hole an inferno of wreckage.   
Kynnaria felt a wave of nausea roll over over. She was screaming, though she didn’t remember when she started. She tumbled down the stairs and to the wreckage. She cried out for Arastan.  
Another mighty creak sounded above her. She was screaming too loud to hear it. Her world gave away to blackness, to heat, to inferno.   
—  
After   
“Get this one through the portal! She needs immediate care!”  
Kynnaria’s eyes flickered open. She registered many worried faces looking down on her. She let out a groan and tried to sit up.   
“No, no, stay down. It’s okay, you’re in good hands. Elune’s light, where’d this one come from?”  
“The others say a Saber dragged her in.”  
“Where is the cat now?”  
“Dead, I think. Spent its last moments rescuing her.”   
The din of voices made Kynnaria’s head hurt. She squinted her eyes shut, and felt the urge to cup her hands over her ears. She tried, but couldn’t feel her hands. She drifted into sleep as she was taken through the portal.  
She dreamed of Arastan and Moonwhistle. They gave her farewell from an unburned Darnassus before dissipating into a wisp of smoke.


End file.
